The note brought back memories of his mother, as well. Gabriel had read that note many times since his mother had died. He did not understand much of it, but one thing was clear: his mother had loved him very much.
Gabriel put the ring in his pocket and finished wrapping his other things in a small blanket. He was tying up the bundle when Herbert Loring came into the room. “I got you some dried meat and biscuits from mother’s kitchen for you to take along,” he said. “I am sorry Father says you have to leave us. He might let you stay if you come back down and apologize.”
Gabriel looked up at the fair-skinned boy who stood before him. “Thank you, but I will not apologize for telling the truth. I knew this day would come. I just did not think it would be quite this soon.”
“Where will you go? What will you do?” asked Herbert.
Those were hard questions to which Gabriel had no answer. “I don’t know, Herbert, but it does not matter right now. All that matters is that I am leaving this house, and I am not returning.”
Herbert looked at him in amazement. Gabriel knew that Herbert had come to look up to him. Herbert had asked Gabriel to teach him French, just like Gabriel’s mother had taught him. He had told Gabriel that he wanted to read all of the same books that Gabriel had been able to read in his father’s bookstore. Gabriel knew that Herbert admired his determination and sense of adventure. Still, he was surprised when Herbert blurted out, “I would like to come with you, wherever you are going.”
Gabriel shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t. Your place is here, Herbert. You are a Loring. You have a future in this home. I do not.” He was surprised that Herbert was willing to throw away the one thing that Gabriel wanted more than anything: a family.
Herbert did not press him any further. “If I cannot go, then I will pray for you, Gabriel. Every night, under my breath, of course. I would pray out loud, but I am afraid that if Father knew I was praying for a, tra— you know, a trait—”
“Just say it Herbert. A traitor. You think I am a traitor to the Crown.”
“No,” answered Herbert. “I do not think you are a traitor, but Father does. I will pray out loud, Gabriel, if you think that God will listen more closely.”
Gabriel, with his sack full of belongings in hand, put his hand on Herbert’s shoulder. “Herbert, God listens to us, no matter what. At least that is what my mother and father told me. Say your prayers in silence and save yourself from your Father’s lash. Now, I have to go.”
With that, Gabriel headed down the stairs. Thankfully, the Lorings had left the table. He opened the door and stepped into the fading daylight. Looking back, he could see Herbert’s face through the small pane window from the bedroom. Herbert raised a hand and pressed it to the window. Gabriel raised his hand slowly, then put it down, and turned away. He felt alone. Although his chest began to heave, he did not cry. Gabriel knew he had a new path to find.
H 2 H
RIVER’S EDGE
With no idea where he would go or what he would do, Gabriel decided to walk to the one place he’d found some peace in the days after his parents’ deaths. He had spent hours sitting on the edge of the East River, watching the ships come into the docks to have their cargos of tea, glass, furniture, spices, cloth, and all other types of English finery unloaded and then reloaded with cargos of grain, tobacco, and furs. The bustle of the work and the beauty of the ships helped take his mind away from his pain. Before the Lorings had taken him in, he even thought of stowing away on one of the ships anchored in the harbor.
Perhaps now he could sail off and leave his anguish behind. But he knew what could happen to stowaways if they were discovered. They faced a life of hard labor to work off payment for passage, or worse still, a toss over the side rail into the ocean.
He walked toward Queen Street to head south to the docks. With the sun beginning to set, the two- and three-story buildings cast their shadows on the streets. He’d just rounded the corner onto Queen Street when a swarthy-looking boy about his age sidled up alongside him. “You wouldn’t happen to have a copper to spare for a poor boy like myself, would you?”
Gabriel looked at the boy, his clothes tattered and dirty. In contrast, Gabriel’s clean and tidy appearance must have made the boy think he had some wealth. “I don’t have any coppers to spare,” replied Gabriel. As he spoke, he saw another silent, smaller boy slinking along in the shadows.
“What about a piece of bread or cheese?” continued the swarthy boy. “I am a Christian boy, you know. Go to church every Sunday. No ill living for me. Clean as a mountain stream, am I.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw the small boy dart from the shadows. Quickly Gabriel tucked his sack full of belongings under his arm and kicked out at the small boy as he flew past him. The kick was enough to send the boy sprawling to the ground. The older boy began to reach for Gabriel’s sack, but before his grubby hands could grab it, Gabriel screamed out as loud as he could, “Pickpockets!”
A woman across the street caught a glimpse of what was going on and also began to scream. The pickpocket boys knew that once the alarm was sounded, their work for the night was over. Soon a constable would appear, and if someone got a good look at their faces, their work as pickpockets might be over for good.
